copycat
by the indecisive bird
Summary: Half of me wants to run away and never look back; the other half wants to figure out what's going on. And now, I realize, I should have done the former.


It's cold, I'm lost, and it is very dark.

I was out mining with Axel, tonight. We left for the mineshaft at noon, our inventories filled with a bunch of wooden swords and pickaxes. Once we got everything we needed, and with only a few weapons to spare, we left the shaft.

...Well, I say 'left,' more like 'mobs caught us and we ran for our lives.'

I don't know how, but I lost Axel on our way out.

So now I'm even more lost. In the middle of the woods, with a stone sword with plenty of cracks in it. One more hit, and I have a feeling it'll disappear in a puff of smoke.

Just what I need in the dark.

I sigh and trudge through the forest, trying to see through the leaves of the trees for any moonlight, but there was barely any. I walked slowly and carefully through leaves and roots, one dirty hand holding on to my sword, the other on the trunk of each tree that I passed by.

My heavy breathing is shaky, both because of so much running and walking, and because I am in the dark, and god knows how terrifying the dark is. I feel sweat on my brow as the rustling of the leaves under my boots and the cries of crickets fill my ears.

I'm surprised I haven't run into any mobs, yet. Not that I'm complaining. I'm not.

As I keep walking, I find more and more light on my path. Looking up, I see that there are less trees than earlier. A smile on my face, I kept walking. The sound of flowing water got louder as I continued.

A river?

With more light than earlier, I walk faster, until I find myself in a clearing. Several feet away is a pool of water and a waterfall, and I can feel a grin form on my face at finally seeing something other than trees and darkness.

But it fades when I fully take in the scene, and I see a little kid sitting by the pool. His - I think he's a boy - arms are were wrapped around his knees; his pink hair a dripping mess. He sat on a puddle of water, his clothes clinging to his skin.

I think he was shivering.

One one hand, I'm glad to find another human, but on the other, I can't help but wonder...

What happened to him?

Lowering the sword in my hand, I step closer. "Hello?"

Whether he said anything or not, I couldn't be sure. What I was sure of was that he stopped shivering.

I don't know why I'm nervous, but I am. I bite my lip and step closer. "Hey, it's alright. I won't hurt you, I promise."

I could hear him say something, but his arms muffled his response. To prove my point, I reluctantly keep my sword.

This time, he moves, turning around slowly. His head was low, and for a moment I thought that it might have been disfigured somehow.

But I was proven wrong. Once most of him faced me, his head shot up, his eyes flickering. Then they stopped, and looked directly into mine, and in that moment it felt like the temperature in the clearing dropped.

I bit my lip. "Hey."

A moment, then, "Hey," he says.

He was young, seven years old, probably. His voice matched his age, but it was eerily monotone. It was cold, and barely above a whisper.

"What's your name?" I ask him.

"What's your name?"

My brows furrow. "Don't copy me," I say, and yet again, he says the exact same thing.

"Don't copy me."

I close my eyes and heave a sigh, and from what I hear, he does the exact same thing. So I crouch down and, despite myself, hold a hand out defensively. "I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?" I say. Then he began to copy me just when I said 'you.' Startled, I continue, "My name is Jesse. I want to help."

He stops talking almost immediately after I do, and now I'm conflicted. Half of me wants to run away and never look back; the other half wants to figure out what's going on.

I should have done the former.

"Okay,"

"Okay,"

"Just tell me what's going on, alright?"

"Just tell me what's going on, alright?"

With every word I spoke, he said it immediately after I did, until..

"I'm here to help."

...Did he repeat? No, no, he...

"Alright?"

If one were to look at me right now, they'd see my eyes were as wide as saucers. My breathing quickened, and I stepped back.

'No way,' I tried to rationalize. 'No way is that possible.'

I tested my theory, hoping that I was wrong. "Hello?"

He spoke just as I did, he stopped just as I did.

We were in perfect sync.

I stood up, still watching the boy. His eyes were still fixed on me. "Okay," we- no, I said. I bent down and put my hands on my knees. 'Run!' I thought, 'I have to run!' But something was stopping me. "If you want me to help, you're gonna have to stop."

Suddenly, in that moment, nothing felt right. I was frozen in place, like someone was keeping me there. A smile tugged at the boy's lips as he stared up at me. He opened his mouth, and-

"Do we have a deal?"

I could only stare as the boy's eyes slid shut, and he collapsed. I wanted to move to him to see if he was okay, but my body didn't respond. I tried and I tried, but I was trapped. It was as if I wasn't in any control anymore. No matter how much willpower I put into getting even my hand to move, it did nothing.

It was like being stuck in a statue.

Then, without warning, my agape mouth turned into a smile, and a chuckle escaped it. My hands were held up, and my fingers moved around. "That was easier than expected." I heard myself say, _but it wasnt me_. I felt it, sure, but it wasnt _me_ saying it.

'i' straightened and turned on 'my' heel, away from the boy and the waterfall, and walked on.

but i was no longer in control.

and I could only watch - _feel_ \- in horror as my body moved on its own, as it met up with Axel and talked to him, and all I could do was try and scream _Axel get away and run thAt iSn'T mE_ but he wouldn't hear. Couldn't.

And then they walked back to the treehouse and the whole time, I tried and I tried and I **_tried_** to take control, to stop the _thing_ that was using my body and make it go away

 _but I couldn't_

* * *

 **A/N: heavily inspired by/based on the Doctor Who episode "Midnight"**

 **doesn't matter which jesse it is here, so feel free to imagine any of them**

 **probably not very good, especially writing-wise, but**

 **what can you do :/**


End file.
